Inseperable
by SamTheTiny
Summary: Shaun is a type of fairy; she's small, wingless, and extremely fast. She's been hunting with the Winchesters since she was about 13, after Dean saved her from John. But, being 5 inches tall doesn't help with the risks of hunting. How long can she last in a world that seems to be plotting against her and her boys *Dean/OC* *GT Story*
1. PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

_It was dark. She had no idea where she was. All she saw was a large silhouette, and then she was consumed by blackness. Her heart raced and she trembled with fear. She let out a yelp as her jacket clad arm collided with a cool, hard surface. She whimpered quietly as she was met with an enormous face, and it wasn't a friendly looking one._

"_Why are you killing people?!" The man growled. "I-I'm not I swear! It wasn't m-me it was a-" She was cut off as he shook the jar that was her prison. She cried out, her shoulder slamming into the side harshly. "Tell me the truth!" He demanded. "I-it was a Shifter, I swear! I-I-" _

"_How do we know you're not a Shifter? You get hurt by iron!" He argued. "I'm a type of Fairy!" The man glared, turning the jar in his hand. "Where's your wings? And why are you wearing clothes?" _

"_M-my species doesn't have wings! I can run r-really fast, but I can't fly! A-and I can shrink objects, l-like clothes! I promise!" She pleaded. He pulled out an iron knife. "No. I don't need you anymore, and this is the only way to stop you from killing anyone else!" She let out a sob as he tipped the jar, beginning to open the lid. A young boy about her age walked in. _

"_Dad, NO!" He yelled, walking in and taking the jar, sending the girl into her shoulder again. He gently set the jar on the table. "Dean, that- that creature has been killing people!" The man said. "None of the shifters we know can change their size! You know that!" Dean reasoned. "Dad, think about it; do we NEED to kill her?"_

_The man sighed. "I guess not…" He glanced at the girl. "Ok Dean, we can keep her, but she's YOUR responsibility, got it? She's not allowed to leave your sight. And she has to become a hunter." Dean nodded, his lips pursed in a straight line. "Ok Dad." The man left the room. Dean turned to the girl in the jar. "You heard him. You've gotta be a hunter now, and you CAN'T leave my sight. Ok?" _

"_O-ok.." The girl replied, backing up into the glass. Dean smiled softly. "I'm Dean, Dean Winchester. What's your name?" He asked quietly. "I-I'm Shaun.." Dean grinned. "Well Shaun, welcome to the family."_

That was the day it all started.


	2. CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE~PILOT

STANFORD COLLEGE

"Dean, you know we could just call him, or friggin' _knock_, right?" Shaun asked as she was set on a table. Dean crawled through the window, picking her up again. "This is more fun." Dean replied, grinning. They snuck through the house- well, if you could call walking casually through the house sneaking- until Dean was suddenly tackled.

In the fighting, Dean managed to put Shaun on the table. Dean finally managed to pin the man to the ground. "Whoa, easy tiger!" Dean said, grinning at the man beneath him. "Dean? You scared the crap outta me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." The man flipped Dean over. "Or not. Get off me." They pulled each other up. "What are you doing here?" The man asked. "Well, I was hoping for a beer." The lights flipped on. "Sam?" The man, Sam, turned. "Jess, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Shaun quickly ducked behind a vase as Jessica glanced in her general direction. "What was.. Nevermind. Wait. Your brother Dean?"

"I love the Smurfs." Jessica glanced down at her pajamas, which consisted of a cropped Smurfs t-shirt and girl's boxer-briefs. "You know, I gotta say, you are _completely_ out of my brother's league…" Dean commented, looking her up and down. Shaun snorted, quickly covering her mouth quickly. Jess glanced in her direction again, narrowing her eyes questioningly at the vase. She turned back to Dean. "Just, let me go put something on…"

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here for a minute, talk about some private family business, but it was nice meeting you." Dean said, walking back toward Sam. "No. No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." Sam argued, walking toward Jess and wrapping an arm around her.

"Okay, um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days." Dean told him. "So he's working overtime on a "miller time" shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam replied. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

The look in Sam's eyes changed. "Jess, excuse us." While Jess was distracted, Dean managed to grab Shaun and follow Sam out the door.

"I mean, come on, you can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you." Sam argued as he and Dean walked down the stairs. "You're not hearin' me Sammy, Dad's missing, and I need you to help me and Shaun find him." Dean replied. "Remember the Poltergeist, in Amherst, or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. He's always missing and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now, are you coming with us or not?" Dean retorted. "I'm not." Sam said. "Why not?" Shaun asked. "Because I swore I was done hunting, for good." He replied. "Come on, it wasn't that easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"When I told Dad I was afraid of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

"What was he supposed to do?" Shaun asked, exasperated. "I was nine years old, he was supposed to say, "Don't be afraid of the dark"." Sam replied. "'Don't be afraid of the dark'? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark, you know what's out there!" Dean said. "I know, but still, the way we were raised, after Mom died, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her, and we still haven't found the damn thing, so we kill everything we _can_ find."

"Save a lot of people doing it, too." Sam scoffed. "Do you think Mom would've wanted this for us?" Dean shoved through the door angrily, Shaun clinging to his fingers to stay balanced. "All the weapon training, the melting silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors, and Shaun too." Dean turned toward him. "So, what, are you just gonna go live some normal, apple-pie life?"

"Not normal, _safe_."

"And that's why you ran away." Shaun commented. "I just went to college, it was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." Sam responded. "Dad is in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it. I can't do this alone." Shaun coughed. "Well, I can't do this alone with Shaun."

"Yes you can." Sam retorted. "Yeah, but we don't want to." Shaun added. Sam sighed, "What was he hunting?"

They went to the car, popping the trunk. "Let's see where the hell did I put that thing… Shaun, where did I put it?" Dean mumbled. Shaun shrugged. "So, when Dad left, why didn't you guys go with him?" Sam asked. "We were working our own gig, a voodoo thing down in Orleans." Shaun replied. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

"We're 26, dude." Dean replied. He pulled out a piece of paper. "Alright, here we go. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy disappeared. They found his car, but he was vanished. Completely M.I.A." Dean explained, showing Sam the article.

"So maybe he was kidnapped." Sam reasoned, scanning the article. "Yeah, well, here's another one in April, and another one in December, '04, '03, '98, and '92, 10 of 'em over the past 20 years, all men, all on the same 5-mile stretch of road." Dean added, producing a tape recorder. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was three weeks ago. We hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I got this voicemail…" Dean said as Shaun pushed the 'play' button.

"Dean, Shaun… something big is starting to happen… I think it's serious… I need to try and figure out what's going on… be very careful guys. We're all in danger." John Winchester's voice sounded through the recorder. "You know, there's EVP on that." Sam pointed out. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like ridin' a bike, isn't it? Alright, I had Shaun slow the message down, run it through a GoldWave, and take out the hiss, and this is what she got.." Shaun pressed the play button after doing the steps.

"_I can never go home…"_

"Never go home…" Sam repeated. Dean lifted Shaun off the trunk and shut it, walking around and sitting on the hood of the car, Shaun perched on his shoulder. "You know in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam sighed, "Alright, I'll go. I'll help you guys find him, but I have to be back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked. "I have an interview." Sam replied. "What, a job interview? Skip it." Shaun elbowed his neck. "It's a law-school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?"

"So, we got a deal, or not?"

When Sam came back outside, the trio piled into the Impala, Shaun sitting comfortably on Dean's lap, a hand draped over her. Sam glanced between the two, seeing a light blush on Shaun's face.

They pulled into a gas-station, and Sam opened his door, sitting with his legs outside of the car. Dean placed Shaun in his lower jacket pocket, leaving a hand in the pocket with her, and headed inside of the store. He emerged with a pack of Mentos in his mouth, two bags of chips, and two sodas. "Hey, you want breakfast?" He asked through the Mentos.

"No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff anyway? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked. "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." Dean replied. "Besides, we just apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards." Shaun added as she was lifted out of the pocket. "Yeah? So, what names did you write on the application this time?" Dean walked around to the driver's side door and climbed into the Impala, and Sam pulled his legs back in.

"Uh, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean said. "Sounds about right." Sam dug through a box of cassettes. "I swear man, you have got to update your cassette tape collection." Shaun, who was drinking her now shrunken soda, choked a bit. "Why?!" Her and Dean asked, alarmed, and quite offended. "Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean snatched away the tape. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"House rules, Sammy; driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his piehole." Dean retorted. "One; Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam, okay? Two; what about dashboard or your lap? What do they get to do about the music?" Sam said, looking pointedly at Shaun, who sat on the dashboard, holding onto the edge and tapping her fingers to the beat of the song. "Well, dashboard over here has good music taste, so, on occasion, she picks. But, she also cannot complain. And what was that first part? I didn't catch it."

"I said, it's Sam, not Sammy."

"Sorry, can't hear you, the music's too loud!"

"So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something I guess." Sam pointed out as they passed a sign that read 'Jericho 7'. Shaun spotted police cars, and carefully crawled toward the window. "Hey, check it out.." They pulled up to the bridge. Dean reached over and opened the glove compartment, taking out a rectangular brown box. Opening the lid, he sifted through the contents; fake ID cards mostly. Finding the ones he wanted, he picked up Shaun, deposited her gently in his breast pocket, and tossed Sam a badge, exiting the car.

Up ahead, a deputy called down off the bridge to two other cops. "Did you guys find anything?" He yelled. "No, nothing!" The deputy walked off to a car, where another officer was searching around. "No footprints, no sign of struggle, nothing. It's clean. Almost too clean." The officer reported.

"So, this kid, Troy; he's dating your daughter isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doin'?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown." Dean and Sam walked up to the two cops. "You fellas had another one just like this about a month ago didn't you?" Dean asked. "And who are you?" Dean pulled out his badge, showing it to the cop quickly, and then putting it back in his back pocket. "Federal Marshals."

The cop looked them up and down. "You two are a little young to be Marshals, don't you think?" Dean chuckled, "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?" The deputy nodded. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There have been others before that."

"So, this victim; you knew him?" Sam asked. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody." The deputy replied. "Any connections between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean called from around the car. "No, not as far as we can tell."

"Got anything?" Dean asked, peeking into his pocket. Inside, Shaun was curled up, typing away at her laptop. "No. So far, I've got zilch." She replied, running a hand through her hair. "So, what's the theory?" Sam asked. "Honestly, we don't know. Serial murdering, kidnapping ring."

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean commented. Sam stomped on his foot, and Shaun was holding back laughter, gently punching his chest. "Thank you for your time. Gentlemen." Sam said, him and Dean walking away.

When Dean was sure that the cops weren't still watching them, he slapped Sam on the back of the head, taking Shaun out of his pocket. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Why do you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

"Come on, they don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're gonna find Dad, we're gonna have to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Someone cleared their throat behind them. Dean felt Shaun move on his hand and when he glanced down, she was gone. Knowing she was hidden, feeling her climb into the inner pocket of his jacket, he turned around.

"Can I help you boys?"

"No sir, we were just leaving. Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." Dean said, walking past the cop and two FBI agents.

Sam and Dean walked down the sidewalk, Shaun resuming her research in Dean's breast pocket. They spotted a girl putting up posters. "I'll bet you that's her." Dean pointed out. "Yeah." They approached the girl. "You must be Amy."

"Yeah." Amy replied. "Troy told us about you. We're his uncles; I'm Dean, and this is Sammy." Sam shot him a look. "He never mentioned you to me." Dean chuckled. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We're looking for him too, so, we're kinda asking around." Another girl walked up to Amy. "Hey, you okay?" Amy nodded. "Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?"

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me back, but he- he never did." Amy told the boys. Amy, Dean, Sam, and Amy's friend sat at a booth in the corner of an old diner. "And he didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked. "No, not that I can remember."

"Here's the deal ladies, the way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…" Amy and her friend shared a look. "What is it?"

"Well...with all these guys going missing, people talk." Amy's friend replied. "What do they talk about?" Dean and Sam asked in unison. "It's kinda this local legend. This one girl got murdered, out on Centennial, like, decades ago." Dean and Sam shared a look, Dean 'accidentally' nudging his pocket, signaling Shaun to look that up. "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up…well, they disappear forever."

Finding a computer in the corner of the library, where nobody could see them, Dean pulled Shaun out of his pocket and set her on the table. He and Sam sat down. "Okay, so, I was looking it up, and I couldn't find anything." She used a pencil that was laying around to type in 'Female Murder Hitchhiking' in the computer. Nothing came up. Dean tried 'Female Murder Centennial Highway'. Nothing. "Let me try-" Sam reached over to the keyboard, avoiding Shaun, but Dean pushed his arms away. "I got it!"

Sam pushed Dean's chair out of the way, moving his own in front of the computer. "Dude! You're such a control freak." Dean mumbled. Shaun laughed quietly.

"So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?"

"Yeah."

"So what if it's not murder?" Sam typed 'Female Suicide Centennial Highway', and clicked on the one result. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania bridge, drowns in river." Shaun read. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked. "Yeah…" Sam said, also reading. "What?"

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911; her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for one minute, she comes back…they aren't breathing…both die." Shaun replies. "Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it, said husband, Joseph Welch." Sam read.

"That bridge look familiar to you?"


	3. CHAPTER TWO

Dean held Shaun close to his chest as they walked down the bridge. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said, looking over the edge of the bridge. Shaun pulled her hoodie tighter, shivering from the cold mist of the river below them. "So, you think Dad would've been here?" Sam asked. "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?" Dean walked away from the edge. "Now we keep digging until we find him. It might take a while." Dean replied. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by-"

"Monday, right, the interview, I forgot… you're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?" Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know about you, I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam's look darkened. "No, and she isn't ever going to know." Dean scoffed. "Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want Sammy, but sooner or later you'll have to face up to who you really are."

"And who is that?"

"One of us." Dean held Shaun up for effect, but Sam shot her a glare. "No, I'm not like you guys. This is not gonna be my life!" Sam argued, walking in front of Dean. "Well, you have a responsibility."

"To Dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looked like. And what difference would it make? Even if we find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone." Shaun's eyes widened and she quickly tried to get Sam to shut up. "Sam, don't-"

"And she isn't coming back."

Dean lunged at him, using one hand to pin Sam to a support beam, the other one tightening uncomfortably around Shaun. "Dean-"

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Dean!" Shaun choked out, his fist clenching slightly. He quickly unclenched his fist, lightly rubbing her arm with his thumb in apology. He turned away from Sam, still looking at Shaun, but as soon as he turned around, her focus was elsewhere.

"Dean, Sam.."

Constance stood on the edge of the bridge. They all watched as she jumped off, running over and looking over the edge. "Where'd she go?" Suddenly, they heard an engine. They turned around. "What the…"

"Wh-who's driving the car?" Shaun stuttered. Dean pulled out his keys, eyes never leaving the Impala. Shaun paled. The car began driving towards them. "Go, go, go!" Dean and Sam leaped over the edge of the bridge, Dean holding Shaun close. Shaun still managed to fall out of his grip, and hit the water a little ways away from Dean; but she couldn't swim.

Sam, who had been smart and grabbed onto the edge of the bridge, grunted as he pulled himself up. "Dean!" He called down to the water. Dean emerged, coated in mud. "Are you alright?"

"I'm super. Wait… where's Shaun?!"

"Wasn't she with you?"

"Yeah! Sammy, she can't swim!"

Dean dove back into the water, blindly feeling around. He came up for air, diving back under almost immediately. Finally, he found something soft and slightly warm at the bottom of the river. Shaun's foot had been caught under a rock, and she was still conscious, thrashing around, screaming what looked to be 'DEAN!'. Dean wrapped one hand around her, using the other to remove the rock.

Dean emerged, breathing deeply, and waded over to the shore, quickly running back up to the road, laying Shaun on the hood of the Impala. She began coughing up water, sitting up slowly, shivering like crazy, also covered in mud. "I-I-I-I'll k-k-kill her, I-I-I s-swear.." She muttered angrily, teeth chattering. Dean breathed out laugh.

"I-I-Is the c-car alright?" She asked. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, it's fine now. That Constance chick…" Dean replied. "I-I kn-kn-know! W-What a BITCH!" Shaun yelled. "Well, she definitely didn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So, where's the trail go from here genius?" Dean threw up his hands, slapping them down on his thighs. He looked down, disgusted, at himself; he was covered in mud. This caused Shaun to look down at herself too. "Dude, you smell like a toilet." Sam commented. "P-p-p-pretty sure I do t-t-too.."

"One room please." Dean told the motel clerk, tossing down his credit card. The clerk looked first up at Dean, who was still coated in muck, and then down at the card. "Are you guys having a reunion or something?" He asked. "What do you mean?"

"That other guy, Bert Aframian; he came in and bought out a room for the whole month."

The lock clicked as Sam picked it. Standing up, he opened the door, looking around. He grabbed Dean, who was keeping watch, by the back of his jacket and yanked him into the room, closing the door. Dean looked around, pulling his hand-and Shaun-from his pocket.

The room was trashed; papers and books strewn across the walls and floors and bed, and as Dean turned on the lamp, he spotted a half eaten cheeseburger, which he smelled, and immediately drew away from. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Shaun commented, also catching a whiff of the burger.

Sam stood from the floor after examining a salt circle on the floor. "Salt, cat's eye shells? He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in." Dean walked along the wall, looking over the papers on it. "What do you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean replied. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common..?" Shaun rambled. Sam looked around, an article-actually the same article they had found-on Constance Welch catching his eye. Above it, was a small piece of paper that read "Woman In White". He scoffed lightly in disbelief.

"Dad figured it out."

Dean turned around, walking towards him. "What do you mean?" He asked. Sam looked back at the article. "He found the same article we did; Constance Welch. She's a Woman In White." Dean turned back to the victims on the wall. "You sly dogs...alright, if we're dealing with a Woman In White, Dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness." Sam pointed out. "No, Dad would've wanted to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Sam scanned the wall. "No, not that I can tell." Shaun looked at the caption of Constance's picture. "If I were your Dad, I'd go ask the husband." She supplied. "If he's still alive."

"Alright, why don't you and Shaun see if you can find an address, I'm gonna go clean up." Dean said, heading toward the bathroom and placing Shaun on the desk. "Hey, Dean what I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry-" Dean put a hand up. "No chick-flick moments." Sam scoffed. "Alright...jerk."

"Bitch."

"Shitheads."

They both turned to Shaun. Dean grinned. Shaun blushed, looking back down at her laptop. Dean shook his head and laughed, entering the bathroom. Sam smiled, picking up an old picture of him, Dean, their Dad, and a little Shaun perched on Dean's hat.

Sam listened to Jess's voicemails the next morning, and Shaun was face-down on a pillow, laptop next to her. "Hey man, I'm starving. I'm gonna go grab a little something to eat from that diner down the street, you want anything?" Dean asked, heading toward the door. "No." Sam replied. Dean stopped by Shaun, chuckling lightly. "Shaun, come on." He nudged her with a knuckle gently. "Nooooo, it's too comfortable here." She whined. She didn't sleep, but beds were quite comfortable.

He gently picked her and her laptop up and lowered his hand into his pocket, leaving it there for her. "Are you sure? Aframian's buying." Dean asked Sam. "Mnh-mnh." Dean exited the room. Looking around, he spotted cops, and then a man pointed at him. Turning around, he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, calling Sam. "What?"

"Dude, five-o, take off."

"What about you?"

"They kinda already spotted me. Go find Dad." He hung up, whirling around to face the officers. "Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" One of them asked. "Partner? What-what partner?" Dean asked back. The other officer headed toward their motel room. Shaun fidgeted nervously in Dean's hand, not feeling that the pocket was safe anymore. "Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs."

Dean was slammed into a car hood and handcuffed, his hand leaving Shaun. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." As they searched his pockets, both Dean and Shaun grew intensely nervous. The man patted down the pocket she was in, and she bit down a scream. The cop still found her. "What the hell?!"

"Leave her alone! Don't you touch her!" Dean growled. The cop smirked. "So, we've found your weakness." Dragging Dean along with him, the cop opened the trunk of his car, searching until he found a jar, opening the lid and depositing Shaun roughly in it. Dean glared murderously at the cop, and Shaun pulled herself into a ball, trembling. Dean looked at her, sending a worried and scared smile. "It'll be alright, I promise."

"So, you wanna give us your real name?" The interrogator asked, bringing in a box and tapping annoyingly at the glass prison that held Shaun. "I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." Dean said through gritted teeth. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in."

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or "squeal like a pig" trouble?" The cop took the jar, spinning it and examining Shaun. "You've got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall, along with a bunch of satanic mumbo jumbo, and let's not forget this unidentified specimen. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"Yeah, that makes sense, because when the first one went missing in '82, I was 3." Dean pointed out. "I know you've got partners, and one of 'em's an older guy, maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me, DEAN…" He slammed the jar down on the table, sending Shaun on her ass, and Dean glared. He tossed a book onto the table. "Is this his?"

It was John Winchester's journal.

"I thought that might be your name. I leafed through this and found out the little I could. I mean, this is nine kinds of crazy. And you're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means." The cop said, turning to a page reading 'DEAN 35-111'. It was a blank page, with only Dean's name and some numbers, circled. Shaun got a look at it from her place in the jar, and recognized it immediately as coordinates.

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you; it's my high school locker combo." Dean lied, still staring at the page, occasionally glancing at Shaun. "Are we gonna do this all night?" Another cop walked in. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford road." The interrogating cop sighed. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"Good." He handcuffed Dean to the table and left. He looked at John's journal, seeing a paper clip sticking out. Smirking, he pulled it out. He grinned toward Shaun, who was still trembling and aching all over. After getting free of the handcuffs, he quickly opened the jar, carefully pulling Shaun out, hugging her to his chest. "Oh my god, I never EVER want to even see a jar for the rest of my life."

They carefully and quietly snuck away and out of the station, going to a phone booth. Dean called Sam. "Fake 911 phone call, Sammy, I don't know. That's pretty illegal!" Sam laughed. "You're welcome." He said proudly. "Listen, we gotta talk-"

"Tell me about it! So, the husband was unfaithful. I talked to Joseph and we are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet..."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean snapped. "What? How do you know?" Sam asked. "We've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Same old ex-marine crap that I can't understand." Shaun sighed, pulling out her own phone and calling Sam. "Hold on Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Coordinates. That's what your Dad wrote in the journal."

"Coordinates? Where to?"

"Uh, not sure yet, I'm working on it."

"Shaun, what the hell is going on?"

Shaun opened her mouth to answer but she heard Sam shout and tires screech. "Sam? Sam!" Shaun yelled. "What happened?" Dean asked. "I don't-" Shaun heard faint talking and heard the car moving. "Dean, we gotta go." Shaun said, hanging up the phone. "Where?" Dean asked. "To the Welchs' old house, go!"

She jumped out of his hand, using her super-speed fairy power thing to run really fast. Hearing Sam scream as she got to the house, she felt the inner pockets that she installed into her hoodie, finally pulling out a salt shotgun. She ran under the car, finding what she was looking for. She crawled up on the pipes underneath the car, and found the hole under the seat, using it to enter the car, standing on the floor of it and shooting Constance, who was on top of Sam.

At the same time she did this, Dean shot the driver's side window, also hitting Constance. "Dammit Dean, making me waste my ammo…" She mumbled. "I'm taking you home." Sam said firmly, flooring it toward the house. "SAM!" Shaun yelled, hearing Dean yell as well. Sam focused, driving straight into the house.

Shaun groaned as she was thrown back under the seat, and fell through the hole she had entered in. "Sam?" She heard Dean yell. "Here!" Dean helped Sam out of the car. "I heard Shaun in the car with me." Sam said. "Shaun!" Shaun coughed. "Under the car, shitheads!" She yelled, coughing and panting. Dean reached a hand under the car, and she flopped forward onto it.

"Sam, you're a bitch." They both laughed, but immediately stopped, seeing Constance holding a picture of her family and glaring at them. She tossed the picture aside, making a large dresser pin them against a wall. The lights flickered as the boys groaned. They all looked around. Water began pouring down the staircase, and two children stood at the top, holding hands. Constance walked toward the staircase, staring longingly at her kids. "You've come home to us, Mommy." They said. They teleported behind her, hugging her. She screamed, and in scary flashes, they all turned into a puddle of water.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, pushing the dresser over. "So, this is where she drowned her kids?" Shaun asked. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them." Sam said. "You found her weak spot." Dean patted him on the chest, where Constance had dug her fingers. "Ahahahaow! Wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey, saved your ass!" Dean pointed out. "And wasted my ammo." Shaun grumbled. "I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up our car; I'll kill you." Shaun said. Sam laughed.

They all sat in the car, Shaun sitting in the middle of the bench with John's journal, Sam shining a flashlight over her. She stared at the numbers, and then at the map, finally marking the point the coordinates pointed to. "Okay, here's where your Dad went; it's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." She announced. "Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked. "600 miles."

"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning." Dean said, looking at Sam. Sam's face fell. "Dean..um…" Dean's face fell as well. "You're not going?" Sam sighed. "The interview is in like, 10 hours, I gotta be there." Dean nodded disappointedly. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

They reached Sam's apartment. "Call me if you find him?" Sam asked as he got out of the car. Dean nodded in response. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right." Dean said flatly. Sam patted the door and turned away. "Sam!" Dean called after him. "Yeah?"

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah."

Dean turned and drove away. Shaun sighed, crawling toward Dean's thigh and leaning against it, patting it sympathetically. Suddenly he turned around. "Dean?" Shaun asked, sitting up in alert. "I've got a bad feeling."

Dean kicked down the door, shotgun in hand, Shaun in his breast pocket. "Sam?!" They heard Sam yelling. "Jess! NO!" They entered the bedroom, which was engulfed in flames. "Sam, come on!" Shaun pleaded. "Jess! No, NO!" Dean dragged Sam out of the flaming room.

The police and the fire department arrived. Dean and Shaun walked toward the Impala, seeing Sam around the back, loading a rifle. Dean looked at the rifle, then up at Sam. Sam looked back at Dean, face stoic, and sighed. He turned back to the trunk, tossing the rifle in and slamming the trunk.

"We got work to do."


End file.
